Well, what about Frazer? He’s from a poor colony.
The words had entered his mind out of nowhere.
As he was suddenly taken back to that moment.
Like time trapped him somewhere, everywhere.
As motionless as space—if space was an ocean.
He knows how tough life can be out there.
There. In the galaxy. Beyond the window.
Transparisteel that separates them both.
Outer space, all its stars, and one man.
His face in its reflection, as he stands.
He saw his whole unit die on Anthan.
Anthan 12. An unforgettable moment.
His unit tracked down those insurgents.
Did their duty, as they were commanded.
That conflict did open up a few…emotions.
Every soldier has scars. Frazer’s a survivor.
He did more than survive, as he remembered.
He led his team into combat. They fought back.
With the blaster, with the fist, how they attacked.
Against the resistance. How the enemy had burned.
Is that the kind of person we want on this mission?
His team had burned too. He was all that remained.
A lone man, the captain of his unit, however brave.
Those men and women under him were the same.
Did he regret that mission? Did he bear its shame?
That’s the only kind of person fit for this galaxy…
That remained to be seen. Frazer bore the weight.
Both the blaster and the blade. Today or tomorrow.
He accomplished his mission and he never strayed.
If the Empire commands, he will obey, he will follow.
For the Empire. Never the first to make such a claim.
Gripping the notion in his fist, in the fingers of a glove.
Standing in his armor that's as dark as that naked space.
Loyalty is victory. And the Empire’s would rain from above.
Turning from the window, Lieutenant Callum Frazer walked forth through a corridor on the floor of the bridge of his ship, or the Combat Information Center. CIC for short. His ship, no less, that Malleus-class heavy gunship, and her name was the Silver Gauntlet.
[“Destination in range. Initiating transmission sequence.”]
The pilot called over the intercom as his captain walked. Captain of his ship, that is, if not quite a captain in rank, but that mattered little and less for this mission.
[“We are connected. Calculating transit mass and destination.”]
Navicomputer computing this and that, and much and more that was lost on the ship’s captain, but he knew Comic was on it. A mind like a comet, the helmsman did his job, no more and no less, as long as he could be put up with.
[“Relay is hot. Acquiring approach vector.”]
While Comic talked, Frazer navigated his way down one side of the command deck, passing by a line of operators on computers, along with the chief navigator, giving him a nod as the latter offered a more formal salute to his commander.
[“All stations secure for transit.”]
Frazer entered the cockpit.
[“Board is green. We’re in the pipe. Five by five!”]
The excitement in Comic’s tone was undeniable. Callum stood behind him, hands clasped behind back, gazing out the viewport, silent.
“C’mon, LT. Please don’t tease me.”
Callum Frazer didn't even grin. “Hit it.”
“INITIATING HYPERDRIVE!”
So the engines of the Silver Gauntlet cried, and the black expanse that was space, that was the ocean, became as blue as one might imagine.
“Expecting heavy resistance on this mission?” Comic asked his captain.
“Why do you ask?” Callum’s tone was ever matter-of-fact over curious.
“Oh, no reason. Just that, eh, the package we’re bringing with us, that guy…”
“Speak your mind.”
Comic stopped typing, swiveled in his seat, turned to face his captain, eyes into eyes, scratching the back of his ear.
“Eheh…just that…I have a kind of fear for his kind…”
“Wasn’t my decision. But give me your opinion.”
“Jedi. Sith.” Comic shrugged. “I’m sure Imperial Command has a good reason for bringing along an Imperial Knight.”
I'm sure. "Right. And it is up to us to comply, to follow orders, no matter our reservations."
"Lieutenant?" Called the co-pilot. "Your presence is requested in the briefing room."
"On my way." Callum stepped away, ready to face this Knight, and his truth.
The words had entered his mind out of nowhere.
As he was suddenly taken back to that moment.
Like time trapped him somewhere, everywhere.
As motionless as space—if space was an ocean.
He knows how tough life can be out there.
There. In the galaxy. Beyond the window.
Transparisteel that separates them both.
Outer space, all its stars, and one man.
His face in its reflection, as he stands.
He saw his whole unit die on Anthan.
Anthan 12. An unforgettable moment.
His unit tracked down those insurgents.
Did their duty, as they were commanded.
That conflict did open up a few…emotions.
Every soldier has scars. Frazer’s a survivor.
He did more than survive, as he remembered.
He led his team into combat. They fought back.
With the blaster, with the fist, how they attacked.
Against the resistance. How the enemy had burned.
Is that the kind of person we want on this mission?
His team had burned too. He was all that remained.
A lone man, the captain of his unit, however brave.
Those men and women under him were the same.
Did he regret that mission? Did he bear its shame?
That’s the only kind of person fit for this galaxy…
That remained to be seen. Frazer bore the weight.
Both the blaster and the blade. Today or tomorrow.
He accomplished his mission and he never strayed.
If the Empire commands, he will obey, he will follow.
For the Empire. Never the first to make such a claim.
Gripping the notion in his fist, in the fingers of a glove.
Standing in his armor that's as dark as that naked space.
Loyalty is victory. And the Empire’s would rain from above.
Turning from the window, Lieutenant Callum Frazer walked forth through a corridor on the floor of the bridge of his ship, or the Combat Information Center. CIC for short. His ship, no less, that Malleus-class heavy gunship, and her name was the Silver Gauntlet.
[“Destination in range. Initiating transmission sequence.”]
The pilot called over the intercom as his captain walked. Captain of his ship, that is, if not quite a captain in rank, but that mattered little and less for this mission.
[“We are connected. Calculating transit mass and destination.”]
Navicomputer computing this and that, and much and more that was lost on the ship’s captain, but he knew Comic was on it. A mind like a comet, the helmsman did his job, no more and no less, as long as he could be put up with.
[“Relay is hot. Acquiring approach vector.”]
While Comic talked, Frazer navigated his way down one side of the command deck, passing by a line of operators on computers, along with the chief navigator, giving him a nod as the latter offered a more formal salute to his commander.
[“All stations secure for transit.”]
Frazer entered the cockpit.
[“Board is green. We’re in the pipe. Five by five!”]
The excitement in Comic’s tone was undeniable. Callum stood behind him, hands clasped behind back, gazing out the viewport, silent.
“C’mon, LT. Please don’t tease me.”
Callum Frazer didn't even grin. “Hit it.”
“INITIATING HYPERDRIVE!”
So the engines of the Silver Gauntlet cried, and the black expanse that was space, that was the ocean, became as blue as one might imagine.
“Expecting heavy resistance on this mission?” Comic asked his captain.
“Why do you ask?” Callum’s tone was ever matter-of-fact over curious.
“Oh, no reason. Just that, eh, the package we’re bringing with us, that guy…”
“Speak your mind.”
Comic stopped typing, swiveled in his seat, turned to face his captain, eyes into eyes, scratching the back of his ear.
“Eheh…just that…I have a kind of fear for his kind…”
“Wasn’t my decision. But give me your opinion.”
“Jedi. Sith.” Comic shrugged. “I’m sure Imperial Command has a good reason for bringing along an Imperial Knight.”
I'm sure. "Right. And it is up to us to comply, to follow orders, no matter our reservations."
"Lieutenant?" Called the co-pilot. "Your presence is requested in the briefing room."
"On my way." Callum stepped away, ready to face this Knight, and his truth.